


Killer Queen

by krikkiter68



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Crossdressing, Don't copy to another site, F/F, F/M, Genderswap, Long Term Lovers, M/M, Oral Sex, Romance, Seduction, Slash, Transformation, cream cakes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-05-07 20:43:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19217179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krikkiter68/pseuds/krikkiter68
Summary: It's been a while for them both.  Time for Crowley to use his considerable seduction skills.





	1. Chapter 1

“Angel?”

Aziraphale looks around to see Crowley slumped on the sofa beside him. He hadn’t been there a second before. He smiles, and ruffles Crowley’s long, red curls.

“Yes, darling?” Aziraphale murmurs. 

He bites into the cream-filled mille-feuille slice he’s holding, gives a little moan of pleasure. It’s delicious. Crowley’s long left arm snakes around his shoulders. The pupils of his golden eyes are dilated, and Aziraphale’s heart starts beating a little faster.

“Tonight, Angel, could we…” Crowley starts. 

His voice is deeper and smokier than usual. Aziraphale knows what this means, of course. He leans into Crowley’s warmth, kisses the tip of his nose.

“Ah, well…perhaps, my love.” 

He pauses, an uncertain smile twitching the corners of his lips. He so hates to disappoint him.

“It’s…it’s been a long time, hasn’t it? How long has it been now?”

“Two hundred and forty-three years”, Crowley answers, immediately. 

“It’s…not that I don’t want to, my love. You know how I adore you,” he murmurs, stroking Crowley’s curls with his spare hand. “It’s just that I’m likely to be, well, a little rusty. Do have some of this,” he says, proffering the cream slice. “It’s got raspberries in it.”

Crowley looks at it, then back at Aziraphale, biting into his full lower lip.

“I’m not hungry,” he growls

Aziraphale understands. He pulls Crowley in tighter, kisses him, relaxes as Crowley’s long, long tongue strokes his own. Hugs him tightly. Crowley breaks away, rests his head on his shoulder, angles his hips away from him. Frustrated as he is, he doesn't want his love to feel pressured,

“Can I tempt you, Angel?”

“Certainly, my love. Anything you like.”

Crowley’s eyes light up. He reaches behind him, takes an éclair from the elegant French plate on the ornate table behind the sofa, and holds it to Aziraphale’s lips. Aziraphale smiles, and bites softly.

“Let’ssss imagine, for the sake of argument, that this éclair…is me.”

Aziraphale gives a soft moan of greedy enjoyment through a mouthful of chocolate and cream. He likes this analogy. He opens his mouth further as Crowley pushes the éclair further into his mouth.

“You don't have to eat me at all, if you don't want to. Ssso to speak. But if you decide to take a single bite, Angel, you’ll soon be begging for more.”

Aziraphale’s skin tingles all over. He opens his eyes, and Crowley’s vanished again.


	2. Chapter 2

The bath.

The bath’s amazing, Crowley thinks.

A free-standing ornate tub, atop a staircase of the purest white marble. The shower automated by a smile at the sensors on the ceiling, provoking a torrent of the softest, smoothest bathwater in the proven universe. And always, miraculously, at the right temperature.

It had, of course, been a little temperamental at first. Crowley, it’s fair to say, is not a demon/fallen angel (delete according to your preference) known for his patience, nor is he renowned for his attentiveness. There had been puddles in the early days, and on one memorable occasion a flood. His heart had hurt at the sight of Aziraphale’s pained yet loving look.

But that was all in the past, now. Crowley slowly strips off his clothes, tucking them into one of the many handy alcoves, before starting his slow ascent up those stairs, the soles of his long feet tingling against the cool marble. Once he reaches the top step, he grins up at the ceiling.

“Bring it,” he intones.

He watches as the waterfall lands with a smack, coiling and purling within the bath, absently running his palms across his taut, finely muscled chest. Pinches those curious nubs, those rosy nipples of his, shivering as the faint pain transmits a positive message straight to his long, stiffening cock. He likes this male version of his body, but he likes it female, too, likes the softness and heft of breasts against his own hands, the contours he creates, the wild concentration of nerves within his clit. Edges versus curves. Hey, he’s flexible. He wonders if Aziraphale would fancy him as a woman, and his cock throbs at the thought.

He could always be a big snake, of course. Aziraphale’s very attentive to him when he’s a reptile, but it gets a bit boring in the vivarium he’s built for him. Basking in a vast greenhouse is nice for the first few years but his lively mind needs a bit more stimulation after a while.

Crowley looks down and realises the bath is practically full already. He snaps his fingers at the ceiling and the waterfall stops immediately. Slides his foot into the soft, swirling water and eases himself down, sliding against the smooth base of the bath. He lies back, submerges himself until only his eyes remain above the lapping surface. His hair, long and red again the way his darling likes it, swirls around him. 

Crowley closes his eyes and all he can see is Aziraphale’s face, lips parted, eyes squeezed shut, as he moans and comes apart underneath him. He feels him grasping his narrow hips, hard enough to bruise, in far enough to feel him panting. Feels himself lowering himself onto Aziraphale’s dick, down and down, relishing the stretch, the burn, because, he grins, his angel’s a big boy. Back and forth, in a slow waltzing movement, pole-dancing on his cock, and Aziraphale, tied hand and foot as he is, can’t touch him, can only writhe and gasp out his need for him and - 

…and that’s enough of that thought process for now, he thinks, his cock straining hard against his firm abdomen. He blinks at the ceiling and the water starts draining away. Stands, and water cascades down on him. Lemon soap scrubs itself across every inch of him, foaming instantaneously before getting rinsed away. The water ceases, and white towels flap towards him from nowhere, wrapping themselves around him. 

Crowley smiles as he steps out of the bath, his entire body buzzing. Now, he thinks, what am I gonna wear?


End file.
